Made to Fall
by AsterWildling
Summary: Isn't it amazing when one person can completely change your life, even in the smallest of ways? It can also be damned inconvenient. This is the improbable tale of how Finn and Ronin became friends, changed each other, and, along the way, might have fallen in love. But that was and accident. Finn/Ronin
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first time writing anything like this, so please be nice. Also, my first language is not English, so please be tolerant of any spelling or grammar mistakes you see. I was inspired by this prompt: . ?thread=5697#cmt5697.**

**Also, this story will contain slash, so if you don't like it, then don't read it.**

**I don't own Epic or any of the characters.**

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The first time Finn meets him, he is falling.

To be entirely fair, it's not his fault. The aerial combat instructor is a big proponent of "learning on the job." This means, apparently, that the new recruits only receive a cursory lesson on how to saddle a hummingbird and general safety principles before they are in the air. At first there is the thrill of flight, of being untethered from the land for the first real time, of being _free_. Wind rushes past you, tearing at your hair, and all you can smell is the freshness of it, the cold clarity that only comes from racing head first at top speed with no regards for the consequences. You feel the shift of muscle beneath your mount's smooth, glistening feathers, feel the potential there for aerial acrobatics you can barely imagine. In this one moment, you know your decision to join the Leafmen was the right one—the only one, really—despite what your parents said.

And then comes the sudden twist that you aren't prepared for, and it seems you didn't fasten the safety harness quit right, because you're tumbling from the saddle. Trees and sky blur together in a nauseating mix of color as you plummet downward.

Anyway, that is how Finn came to find himself where he is now, tumbling toward the forest floor at a frightening speed. The wind is tugging at his hair, air forcing itself into his nose and mouth so that he feels it might suffocate him. What a strange thing to worry about when you are, in all likely hood, falling to your death. His stomach is somewhere in the vicinity of his breast bone, and his heart has leapt up into his mouth. All he can hear is the rush of wind, blood pounding in his ears, and his father's voice saying reproachfully, "All Leafmen die young and stupid. Is that what you want?"

_Not really_, he thinks, but the thought itself is swept away before he really notices it.

The drone of wings is the only warning he has before an iridescent blue hummingbird pulls up beside him, its rider matching his speed and trajectory perfectly. For an instant, Finn thinks that Sergeant Verna has come to his rescue, but then he recognizes the familiar yellow tunic and realizes that his savior is a fellow recruit.

The young man eyes him from beneath his riding helmet, then extends a hand.

"Need a lift?"

The laugh is startled out of Finn and lost just as quickly in the rushing air. He grasps the offered hand, appreciating the strong grip as only one who has just been saved from plummeting to his death can. Only once he is safely settled with his arms wrapped firmly about his rescuer's waist does the other man turn his hummingbird toward the tree branch where all the other recruits have gathered. Finn has to admire the smooth way the young man handles his mount, providing a gentle hand with just enough firmness to keep the spirited bird in check. He acts as though he has been riding hummingbirds all his life. Finn also notices, ruefully, that the other recruit's safety harness is fastened correctly.

They land on the branch with barely a bump, smooth as a whisper. Sergeant Verna descends on them in a red-faced furry, followed closely by a wildly grinning recruit with a nest of brown curls on his head. As Verna bears down on Finn, the curly-hair recruit grabs Finn's rescuer in a playful headlock, knocking his helmet off in the process and revealing dark grey hair cut almost painfully short. The young man grunts in protest as his friend ruffles his hair enthusiastically.

"I've gotta say, that was the most hair-brained stunt I've ever seen you pull! Tara will be so proud. Our little Ronin is growing up."

The grey haired young man, whose name appears to be Ronin, blushes at the spectacle that his friend has made of them. "Sorrel, stop it," he mutters, pale cheeks darkening.

As Finn endures Sergeant Verna's tongue lashing about riding safety and good, old-fashioned common sense, he discreetly watches Ronin and Sorrel over her shoulder. They are discussing something that he can't make out over his instructor's displeasure, but whatever it is brings a small smile to Ronin's thin lips. Finn has always had a healthy appreciation for beauty and courage, and finds it all the more irresistible when they come in one package. As if sensing that Finn's thoughts are focused on him, Ronin glances up and catches his eye.

For one bewildering second, Finn feels as though he's falling again.

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**Reviews would be encouraging. I'm still not sure if I'm going to take this anywhere, so feedback is welcome.**

**Aster**


	2. Chapter 2

The training is harder than Finn ever thought it would be. Despite what his father always said about Leafmen being knuckle-headed idiots who don't know the first thing about anything, they are still the best fighting force in the forest.

And they only take the best.

Recruits are put through one grueling exercise after another. In the morning there are classes on what the trainers like to call "the thinking arts." Reading and writing, mathematics, deportment, law and justice.

"Leafmen are expected to be diplomats and peacekeepers as well as soldiers, and this requires that they learn how to think, not just wield a weapon," their training company CO tells them when one girl asks what the point is.

After lunch comes training in the acres of practice courts and exercise yards behind the Leafman headquarters. Here is the center of training for Leafmen. Finn and the other recruits spend their afternoons and part of their evenings here, going inside only when it actually rains or snows—and sometimes not even then. Here they learn dueling, fighting with weapons such as swords, axes, and staffs, archery while standing and while flying, normal flying and trick flying. They learn to fall, roll, tumble. They get dirty, tear muscles, bruise themselves, break bones. If they withstand it all, if they are stubborn enough and strong enough, they will someday wear a Leafman's armor with pride.

As the weeks drag on more and more recruits drop out. Finn remembers vividly seeing one young girl who couldn't be more than seventeen leaving with her parents in tears. Whenever he feels tempted to quit, he thinks about his family back on their fungus farm, his gaggle of little siblings staring at him with wide, disappointed eyes, and his father with that rotted smug expression on his face. It steadies his resolve. He will not be the one who quit because training was too hard. He will not be the one to disappoint his little brothers and sisters who were all so excited that their big brother was going to be a Leafman. He will not be the one to prove his father right.

The instructors only get harder as more recruits are weeded out. Sometimes Finn thinks that they do it because they enjoy trying to break wannabe Leafmen. But the pressure has a way of separating those who have the ability to do the job from those who just like the uniform. It soon becomes obvious who the recruits with real potential are.

Ronin seems to thrive under the pressure of it all. The louder the trainers yell at him, the more focused he becomes. He is by far the best archer in the group, and is only surpassed in flying and swordsmanship by Sorrel and Finn himself. There is a steadiness about him that draws the other recruits in. He is willing to listen to the others complain about the training, then comes back with a reason for why things are the way they are or why the trainers do what they do. He helps out recruits that are struggling with something, be it archery or mathematics. He keeps order when tensions run high in the confined barracks they are all sharing. He listens to the others talk about homes and families they haven't seen in months in wistful voices, though Finn notices that Ronin never volunteers any personal information in return.

Finn comes to respect Ronin in the months they spend in basic training together. He begins to see him as something of a mentor, even though the other young man is only three or four years older than him. There is something about him that inspires absolute confidence in a person. You can rest all your hopes on him, and he will not fail, will not let you down, no matter what.

Ronin becomes the unofficial leader of the recruits, the one they all go to with their problems. They trust him to make the decision whether or not something needs the attention of an officer or whether it can be handled within the company. But despite the level of trust others show in him, Finn doesn't see Ronin confiding in any one. The only person he is close to on a personal level is Sorrel, the loud, brash recruit who is always getting everyone else into trouble on his account. They are such complete opposites, but maybe that is why they fit together so well. They balance each other out, Ronin giving stability to his friend's exuberance and Sorrel providing the levity that Ronin lacks. Whatever the reason, one thing is clear. When they fight together, no one can compete with them.

The day of graduation is crisp and clear with a telling nip in the air. The ceremony itself is short, almost perfunctory. What everyone is really waiting for are the festivities that follow. The families and friends of the graduating recruits are all invited. Scanning the crowd, Finn isn't surprised to see that his family didn't come. It doesn't really matter. Instead, he joins friends in celebration with their families. Given everything they've been through together in the last few months, they all might as well be family.

The nearest tavern is packed that night. Finn is introduced to Sorrel's beaming parents, along with his little sister Meggy, who wears her hair in pigtails. As the exuberant new Leafman dashes off to annoy the bar maid for another round of drinks, Finn can't help noticing that he's not the only one lacking a family. Ronin doesn't seem to have anyone there either, though Sorrel's parents treat him like a second son.

Curiosity peaked, he makes his way over to the reserved young man, drinks in hand. Ronin glances up and nods in greeting. His eyes never cease to fascinate Finn. They seem to shift color, appearing blue in the light of day and pale grey when immersed in shadows. He settles down on a stool next to his friend; he'd like to think they're friends, at least.

"No one come to congratulate you?" he asks casually, handing over the second glass of dark amber liquid. Ronin accepts the drink, fingers brushing against Finn's as he takes the glass. Finn's stomach jumps slightly, like he missed a step going down the stairs. He frowns a little at the feeling, scratching his newly grown red beard.

Ronin is shaking his head in response to Finn's question. "My Da was a Leafman, but he died a while back in a border skirmish. Ma ran off when I was a little kid, so I've been living with my aunt and uncle. Neither of them was thrilled when I decided to join the Corps. They probably think I'm going to die young like Da did. Can't really blame them for not wanting to celebrate my commission."

Finn can't help laughing in surprise. "I think that's the most personal information anyone has gotten out of you this entire time." He feels no The other young man shrugs. "No one else ever asked," he says simply. "Besides, it's not like I haven't got anyone. Sorrel and I have known each other since we were babies. I practically live at his house half the time. And there's also—"

He is cut off by an exuberant shout of "Ronin!" an instant before a tall, willowy girl with dark skin flings herself at him from the crowd. He catches her with an _oomph_, her sudden arrival sending him tumbling backwards into the bar and nocking the air from his lungs. He laughs breathlessly, returning her hug with enthusiasm, before pushing her back gently by the shoulders so he can get some air.

Finn watches the entire display with a mixture of amused bewilderment. He's never seen Ronin so…so happy, not in all the months he's known him.

The young woman beams at Ronin. "I _told_ you you'd do it," she practically crows with delight before turning and looking around the crowded tavern. "Where's Sorrel? Off chasing bar maids I bet, and with Meggy here, too." Her attention suddenly falls on Finn. "Well, hello, who's this?"

Finn straightens and extends a hand. "Finn ó Duinn. I'm a friend of Ronin's."

The young woman's amber eyes light up at this. "Oh, you don't know how good that is to hear," she exclaims, shaking his hand vigorously with both of hers. "I'm Tara Caomhánach, by the way. A pleasure to meet you."

Sorrel chooses this moment to show up with another round of drinks and a pretty bar maid on his arm. In the commotion that follows, Finn is hard pressed to hear anything. Sorrel greats Tara with the same eagerness with which he does everything, but there is genuine affection on his face when he hugs her. Ronin moves over to join them, and it is obvious that these three have known each other all their lives. There is an ease between them, a freedom to show affection and exasperation in equal measure.

When Sorrel gives the bar maid an appreciative slap on her backside, Ronin frowns in obvious disapproval. He seems about to say something, but Tara intervenes, sliding up next to him with an amused look on her dark face. Finn leans in close enough to just make out what she is saying.

"Let him have some fun, Ronin. He's mostly harmless."

The frown doesn't leave his face. "We're Leafmen now," he insists. "We're supposed to set a proper example—"

Tara cuts him off mid-sentence. "Always so serious," she exclaims with a mock pout. "What happened to the little boy who used to shove my face in the mud?"

Ronin's lips twitch slightly. "He grew up."

"That he did," Tara agrees. "He grew up into a fine, strong Leafman who's going to save the entire forest one day." Her voice carries both warmth and conviction.

The slight twitch of Ronin's lips transforms into a rare smile.

Tara's own grin becomes softer, more intimate. She loops a graceful arm around Ronin's neck, pulling him closer so that their foreheads are almost touching and taps his nose lightly with a slender finger.

"There's that smile," she murmurs, voice almost lost to Finn's ears.

Ronin's cheeks darken slightly, even as his hands move to rest tentatively on her back. Their eyes remain locked. For them, in this moment, nothing else exists accept each other.

Finn watches the scene play out, entranced, and feeling oddly guilty for witnessing such a private moment. The mood is broken, however, when an animated Sorrel runs into him, knocking him over a nearby table. He falls flat on his butt.


End file.
